


It's a Start

by phantisma



Series: Running to Stay Still [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-06
Updated: 2010-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Angel, mid season 4ish of SGA.  Ronon returns a few months after his last encounter, determined to find out more about Lindsey and hoping that maybe things heat up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Start

Teyla tells him that it is better to leave well enough alone, that it is clear that Lindsey isn't interested in telling his story and Ronon knows she's probably right. He should just leave it be.

And yet, here he is. Again.

It's late afternoon, and he's got absolutely no business on the planet except that he wants to see Lindsey. Their last encounter was several months ago, and Ronon had left him to sleep of a pretty significant drunk after a night that had led their conversation down a twisting road of stories Ronon wasn't entirely sure he believed, though he was pretty sure that Lindsey had been drunk enough he couldn't really lie.

He's only part way to town from the gate when he hears what sounds like singing, and Lindsey singing at that. Ronon turns toward the sound, pausing as the breeze distorts the sound and blows it off toward the south. There's some sort of instrument too, something Ronon's heard before on Atlantis.

He tracks the sound, moving into the trees and around the tumble of boulders that is the beginning of the mountain range, toward where he knows a river rumbles down toward the village.

He finds the tavern keeper in a patch of sun through an opening in the trees, perched on a rock. He's shirtless, and he's got one booted foot perched on a smaller rock, helping him cradle the instrument to him. His hair has gotten longer, curling around his ear. His eyes are closed and his fingers move on the strings slowly, pulling a sound from them that feels lonely and sad.

Ronon leans on the nearest tree, watching silently. Lindsey sings softer now, his voice mixing with the music from the strings and it gives Ronon a sense of homesickness for things Lindsey left behind, a world lost to him now, even though the words speak of a woman.

The song ends and Lindsey's fingers still. After a long moment he opens his eyes, looking around him self-consciously. He starts when he spots Ronon. "How long you been there?"

His accent is thicker than Ronon remembers, something similar to one of the guys on Atlantis who Ronon spars with from time to time. "Not long." Ronon responds. "That was nice."

Lindsey rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "That wasn't nothing. Just miss the sound I guess."

"You're good." Ronon pushes off the tree and crosses the small distance.

"Nah, I just play." He holds up the instrument. "I had to draw this for the guy in town, been trying to get it right for almost a year. Finding the right strings was hard too."

"You should have asked, I could maybe have traded for one somewhere." Lindsey had never really told him where he was from, but Ronon knows enough trading posts that he might have been able to find something that would have worked.

Lindsey frowns at him for a second, then nods. "Didn't think of it. Don't matter. I like this…it's hand crafted."

Ronon perches on the rock next to him. "Play me something."

Lindsey quirks an odd smile and shakes his head. "I wouldn't know what."

"Anything." Ronon responds, grinning. Lindsey sort of blushes and looks away.

"Okay, how about this…." He strums over the strings a few times, then clears his throat. "Big wheels keep on turning, carry me home to see my kin. Singing songs about the Southland, I miss my Alabamy once again, and I think it's a sin. Well I heard mister Young sing about her. Well I heard ole Neil put her down. Well, I hope Neil Young will remember, a southern man don't need him around anyhow. Sweet home, Alabama, where the skies are so blue. Sweet home, Alabama, Lord, I'm coming home to you."

He strums harder and sang the chorus again before he lets his voice fade and his fingers still.

"That where you're from?" Ronon asks. "Alabama?"

Lindsey makes a face and shakes his head. "Nah, but I like the song."

They are quiet for a long minute, then Lindsey puts the instrument down. "So what brings you here this time? Didn't get enough of whatever it was you were trading for?"

Ronon shakes his head. "I'm taking a vacation."

Lindsey lifts an eyebrow at him. "A vacation? Here?"

"I figured I should see it in the spring."

"Right. You know you suck at lying."

Ronon laughs. "Yeah, okay, that wasn't entirely convincing."

"Not entirely, no." Lindsey agrees, standing. "I should be getting back and getting the tavern open so the regular drunks can start their drinking. You coming with?"

Ronon stands too. "I got nowhere else to be. Promise you won't get so drunk I have to carry you to bed this time?"

Lindsey holds up the hand not holding his instrument. "I make no promises."

 

 

 

Ronon kicks his feet up at a table near the fire and watches as Lindsey sets about opening the tavern. Once he has the place set up, Lindsey disappears into the back and comes out with a bowl of stew and a tankard of ale that he sets in front of Ronon.

"What's this?"

"Dinner." Lindsey responds, turning to stoke the fire. "You come all this way I figure I should give you something."

Ronon snorts and tastes it, nodding appreciatively.

"What? Did you have something else in mind?" Lindsey raises an eyebrow and Ronon repeats the gesture. "'Cause I don't put out on the first date."

Ronon nearly chokes on his stew, flushing hot as he turns to look at Lindsey. "Is that what this is?" Ronon asks, swallowing and turning completely so he is facing Lindsey. "Because maybe you have a different definition for that word too."

"I don't know, you tell me." Lindsey responds. He looks Ronon over. "There's food, drink…me."

"Well if this is a date, it isn't our first." Ronon says, turning back to his food. "It's our second."

"Okay, I'll give you that." Lindsey offers. "But that means you waited months after our first date without calling or stopping by. Hell I could have died and you wouldn't have known."

"Oh, I would have known." Ronon growls, grabbing his wrist when he would have walked away. "You think I just put you to bed and walked away?"

Lindsey pulls his wrist free, but glares down at him. "What do you mean?"

Ronon shakes his head and sticks a spoonful of stew into his mouth. "Nothing."

"Nothing my ass." Lindsey pokes his arm.

"You really don't remember?" Ronon asks after he's swallowed.

"Remember what?"

"Damn you were more drunk than I thought."

The bells over the door chime and Lindsey turns to the men entering the tavern. He looks for a minute like he is going to stay and demand an answer, then he storms off. Ronon focuses on his stew, unsure himself, now that it came down to it, exactly what he'd expected out of this.

It had been Lindsey that made the move, his lips moving over Ronon's like he'd meant them too, though in retrospect, it was likely just the whiskey talking. The banter was meaningless for the most part and he's beginning to wonder if he'd just built the whole thing up in his head.

He is done with the stew and he tosses back the ale, standing and grabbing his bag. Lindsey is just coming in from the kitchen, putting bowls of stew in front of the two men at the bar.

"Going somewhere?"

Ronon shrugs. "Need to get a room, before Old Lady Mallory closes up."

Lindsey comes out from behind the bar, reaching for Ronon's bag. "No."

"No?" Ronon asks, turning toward him.

"I got rooms here. You're staying with me."

Lindsey turns and heads up the stairs with his bag, leaving Ronon little choice but to follow. Across the hall from Lindsey's room is another bedroom. Lindsey pushes the door open and drops the bag on the bed.

"Ain't much, but it's safe and warm."

Ronon figures this was the best invitation he was going to get and crowds Lindsey in until he's against the footboard of the bed. They stare at each other, something of a dare on each face until Ronon finally takes it and leans in, his mouth covering Lindsey's, at first little more than contact, but when Lindsey doesn't pull away or try to hit him, Ronon gets a little bolder and lets his tongue slide over his lips, tasting Lindsey's slowly. Ronon pulls back and opens his eyes. Lindsey's eyes burn bright blue as he blinks. He slowly nods. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ronon asks, crossing his arms.

Lindsey grins, his cheeks flushing pink. "Get settled. I'll be downstairs."

Lindsey walks away, scratching at the back of his head, and Ronon wants to run his hands through it, hold it in his fist as he plunders that mouth. He exhales slowly and tells himself to relax. It's just a kiss. One kiss. Nothing more.

He shoves his bag under the bed and sits for a minute, tries to wait. Because Lindsey thinks he's hunting, chasing, and Ronon wants to surprise him. Well no, that isn't true. Ronon wants to have grabbed him and pushed him into the wall and kissed him until they both had to come up for air…but now that Lindsey's walked away, Ronon wants to take his time. He doesn't want to be the hunter.

He lays out on the bed, stretching, bouncing to test its strength. He checks the window and the closet. When he can't stand the silence, Ronon heads back downstairs, trying for casual. He surveys the room as he descends, spots Lindsey at the bar and turns to look at the tables.

Lucus Leery and his brother are at one of the tables, both of whom had offered him shelter in the past. Ronon heads toward them, sinking onto the empty chair and offering his hand. They banter a bit before Lindsey comes over with a mug of ale for him, setting it down without a word and crossing back to the bar.

Ronon half listens to stories about crops and livestock and other things he really doesn't care about, trying to watch Lindsey without looking like he's watching Lindsey, and feeling a certain smug satisfaction when he catches Lindsey doing the same thing.

He says goodbye to the Leery brothers and nurses the last of the ale. The tavern is quiet, just the two guys at the bar who are well into their bottle of whiskey and Ronon. Lindsey's wiping down the bar and Ronon kicks his right foot up on the table, tilting his chair back, his eyes on Lindsey.

It takes a while, but eventually the two farm guys at the bar start to feel a little uncomfortable with whatever is in the air and they pay their tab and head for the door, leaving them alone. Lindsey is still staring at Ronon as he crosses to the door and locks it and Ronon knows it's early for closing, but Lindsey doesn't seem to care as he stalks across the room, ending up between Ronon's sprawled legs, his hand fisting in Ronon's shirt and pulling him forward.

There's a lot of staring and Lindsey huffing like he thinks this is a bad idea, then Lindsey kisses him. It's hard and awkward at this angle, but it's hot too with Lindsey pulling on his shirt and Ronon's hand falls to his hip, his leg dropping from the table, holding Lindsey between his knees.

Ronon is smirking when Lindsey pulls back and Lindsey rolls his eyes. "What?" Lindsey shakes his head and kisses him again. "Stop smirking at me."

His smirk grows into a grin and his hand slips around to Lindsey's ass, pulling him in closer. "Can't help it. You're just so damn hot."

Lindsey flushes red and leans in. "You're the one in leather pants."

"I don't have to be." Ronon offers. The heat of Lindsey is filtering in past the other sensory input, and he wants to feel it up against his skin…wants to taste it. Ronon runs both hands over the tight roundness of his ass, then up to where his shirt has lifted up from the pants, his thumbs brushing over bare skin.

Lindsey shivers at the touch and pulls away. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Ronon stands and follows him. "Hey, don't." He catches Lindsey's shoulder and turns him back. "Tell me why."

"You don't want to hear my sob story, Ronon. Maybe we should both just call it a night."

"I'm here." Ronon says, his hand sliding over shoulder and up Lindsey's neck. "You don't have to say anything. I'm still here."

Lindsey stiffens, then sags against Ronon, sighing heavily. His head is on Ronon's shoulder, his eyes closed, then suddenly he's whirling, his mouth on Ronon's, his hands holding Ronon's face as he kisses him almost desperately.

Ronon staggers back a step under the onslaught, catching himself on a chair before sliding his hand up into Lindsey's hair and using it to slow him down. Ronon licks his way around Lindsey's mouth, pulls his body in so that they're chest to chest.

"Upstairs." Lindsey growls, his fingers digging into the pockets of Ronon's pants and dragging him toward the stairs. They stumble up a few steps before Lindsey's dragging him in again, lips and tongue claiming Ronon's mouth as he clings to the railing to keep them from stumbling back down.

Ronon holds his hips, moving so that he's a step above and pulling Lindsey with him. He manages to hold the kiss as they climb the steps, though he almost falls when he gets to the top. Lindsey's hand shoves into his chest to keep him upright, then keeps pushing until they're in Lindsey's bedroom. His eyes are dark when he finally ends the kiss, his lips reddening and when he licks over his bottom lip, Ronon can't help himself, he leans in to nip at that lip.

Lindsey growls in response, pulling at Ronon's shirt. There's a ripping sound before he manages to get it open, but Ronon grins and yanks it off, dropping it to the floor before he returns the favor, not bothering with niceties. He grabs and pulls, ripping Lindsey's shirt in two and dropping it.

Lindsey responds by shoving Ronon back onto the bed and climbing over the top of him to claim his mouth again. His hands work the laces of Ronon's pants and he growls in frustration when the laces tangle. Ronon moves him to the side, kicking off his boots and undoing the pants himself, lifting his ass enough to push them down. His cock springs up, already half hard and Lindsey pounces at him.

Ronon is still trying to get his pants off and Lindsey has his cock in his mouth, tongue moving over the tip and his hand already massaging Ronon's balls. Ronon leaves his pants dangling off one foot and tries to reach for Lindsey's, but Lindsey chooses that moment to suck in deep and hard, filling Ronon's cock and making him gasp.

"Fuck."

Lindsey lifts his head and grins. "That's kind of the idea."

"Then you're wearing too much." Ronon says.

Lindsey climbs off the bed and loses his pants, bending over to pull something out of the drawer of the nightstand. When he stands, Ronon reaches for his cock, using it to bring him back to the bed. Lindsey opens the vial in his hand and pours oil onto his fingers, then reaches for Ronon's cock, smearing the oil down it. He lifts one foot up and over Ronon, his hand moving now to his own ass.

"Lindsey…" Ronon says, his voice dark, his eyes caught by the movement of Lindsey's hand as he opened himself up. Lindsey shakes his head, shifts his weight so that he's standing over Ronon, already starting to sink down.

"No, Ronon…my house, my rules…I want this." His hand holds Ronon's dick as he sinks, guides it to his hole. He bites his lip as it penetrates, then exhales as he slowly takes it deeper. "Fuck. Fuck. Damn." He lifts up again, his eyes closed as he works himself open. It takes four strokes to take Ronon fully inside him and when he does, Lindsey settles his knees on either side of Ronon's hips, his own cock flushed red and hard and laying against Ronon's stomach.

It was more than he'd expected and for a moment Ronon doesn't dare breathe as Lindsey adjusts to the fullness, the look on his face saying that Ronon was larger than he'd first thought.

When his eyes open though, Lindsey's all there, the needy look gone to hungry and when he squeezes around Ronon, he sees stars. Ronon's hands grab Lindsey's hips, fingers digging into flesh even as Lindsey starts to rock, sliding up Ronon's cock a little bit, then back down.

With the way his tight ass squeezes and holds when he's taken Ronon as deep as possible is going to finish him fast. Ronon leverages up on his elbows, shifting their balance until he can drop Lindsey to the bed and take over control. He slides out of him long enough to get to his knees, then pushes back inside. Lindsey is holding his own cock now as Ronon thrusts into him, rocking the bed against the wall as they fuck.

He knows when he finds Lindsey's hot spot by the way his mouth falls open and his lips move, but no sound comes out. Ronon's close, so close…and he reaches a hand to cover Lindsey's stroking his cock in counterpoint to his thrusting until Lindsey.

Lindsey tightens around him seconds before his cock starts to spill and Ronon fights to hold on through it, but the smell of come and the low growling moan escaping Lindsey pull him over and before he can even pull out again he's coming too.

He falls back, against the headboard, breathing hard as Lindsey sits up slowly, grinning at him. "So is that your definition of a date?" Ronon asks a little breathlessly.

Lindsey gets up to find his torn shirt, wiping his ass and his stomach with it. "Well, it's a start."


End file.
